Public Affairs
by beautiful-you-make-me
Summary: Thrown together by their publicist, Sonny Munroe and Chad Dylan Cooper land in a whirlwind of interviews, red carpet events and staged run-ins with the press. But how long can they keep up the charade before they kill one another?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This plot has probably been done before, but I thought I'd give it a shot anyway. Chad and Sonny will basically fake-date for publicity. ;) I hope you like it!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own SWAC.

* * *

It wasn't our idea.

But we were discussing it anyway.

Chad likes to compare us to cesium and water; put them together and you've got yourself an explosion. I prefer to look at us as nothing but living prove that you shouldn't believe everything you read.

"We'll start off simple," Regina announced.

I felt my spine stiffening. I exchanged glances with the blond actor on my right. Neither of us had agreed to anything yet, but we were open to exploring our options.

"I can't rearrange your schedules too drastically within the next week," she continued. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, studying our upcoming agenda on a piece of paper. "Especially since there's still one episode of _Mackenzie Falls _to shoot until the season's over."

Our publicist paused. I nervously toyed with my cuticles—a bad habit I'd picked up years ago—while I watched, fascinated by her refusal to submit to technology, as she combed through a sloppy array of paper files. Regina's office wasn't so much an office as it was a storage unit—and a badly organized one, at that. But, to give her some credit, she did always seem to know exactly where to find what she was looking for.

"You're attending a wrap party in Los Angeles Saturday evening, am I right?" she asked after a brief pause, dragging her gaze away from her desk to scrutinize Chad. He nodded, and she subsequently moved on to me. "Sonny?"

"Ye—Yeah?" I stammered.

"You'll accompany him."

I blinked.

"What?" I muttered brilliantly.

"It will give you an opportunity to adjust to one another—and I suggest you use it," she said. "You won't have to do an interview. Some pictures will probably suffice for now, so that's beneficial." Her eyes went to Chad. "Put your arm around her. Whisper in her ear." Her sharp gaze shifted to me. "Laugh when he talks. Get lost in his eyes. Frankly, I don't give a shit what you do; just make it convincing."

I could feel myself staring, my jaw slightly lowered. I was fully aware why we were having this meeting, but having her say it out loud made it sound infinitely worse. It was a well-renowned fact that Chad Dylan Cooper and I did not get along. I took great pleasure out of publicly vilifying him and he always appeared to be _very _eager to return the favor. We got on each other's nerves, whether it was inadvertently or not, but lately the press seemed to mistake our annoyance for sexual frustration. Regina thought it would be a marvelous idea to use that to our advantage.

"We can do pictures," Chad said. He glanced at me, quickly breaking the eye contact when he found me looking right back at him. "We photograph well together," he added.

I slowly nodded in confirmation. "That is true," I agreed.

I'd been to a couple events with the cast of the Falls, as I was currently guest starring on the show, and we'd taken several group pictures. We hadn't experimented with pictures of just the two of us yet, but I doubted it would matter much how many people were in between us as they snapped the shot. We'd be fine. He'd have to touch me, but we'd be fine.

"Alright," Regina said. "Sonny, do you think you can make it?"

I was fairly certain having drinks with a friend wouldn't qualify as being unavailable. I reluctantly forced myself to nod, twisting my lips into a fair approximation of a smile. I grabbed the glass of water in front of me and took a sip, before placing it back on the mahogany desk and saying, "I'll do it."

I'd made that decision already before entering this room. I just hoped I wouldn't come to regret those words.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! :) This chapter was really short, but I thought I'd see if people are interested in reading this first. It's my very first fanfiction, so I'd love to hear what you think!

Melissa.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thank you for all the sweet comments!

**Disclaimer:** I wish.

* * *

"_Damn_, Munroe!" Chad said. "You look exhausted."

His eyes slowly travelled the length of me—lingering on my bare legs a little longer than necessary—until his blue orbs ultimately reached my hazel ones, carefully examining the dark circles underneath them.

"Ha, thanks!" I said. _That's what every girl wants to hear. _"Glad you're here to confirm that."

He was right. I'd been working ungodly hours these past few weeks, spending almost all of my time off from _So Random _shooting scenes for the _Falls_. Make up did wonders, but it could only cover up so much.

"Was there anything else?" I asked him sweetly.

My regret was immediate.

Chad's attention shifted, appraisingly studying the dress I was wearing, my face turning an interesting shade of red. I'd opted for a low-cut, black number that ended mid-thigh; I wanted to keep things simple, which seemed to be the theme of this evening. And, if the current look on his face was any indication, the dress appeared to be working for me.

"Just that I won't worry about bad pictures when I'm standing next to you," he assured me casually. The right corner of his mouth lifted into an unnatural hybrid of a sincere smile and a mocking smirk. "I'm much more apprehensive about your inability to stay on your feet for several hours tonight, to be honest."

His voice was remarkably concerned, though I had a feeling his worries had less to do with my sleep deprivation and far more with him staring at my six-inch heels with a slightly horrified expression on his face. I was only 5'2", which meant I often had to compensate, and it was a habit he always attempted to make me break. He was, after all, barely six feet himself.

"Just get in the car, Tuxedo Boy," I said, shaking my head slightly. "You're still taller than me. Don't worry."

"Psh, I better be," he muttered under his breath.

He straightened up a little, no doubt a petty effort to make his height more prominent, and I struggled to keep myself from smiling. He opened the car door with a grandiose gesture.

"After you, my lady."

It would have been endearing, had he not been smirking the entire time.

"I'm not sure if your chivalry is charming or just really, really annoying," I told him.

"Find it charming," he replied. "It'll make this easier on the both of us."

He leaned on the car door as I got in, a carefully calculated series of maneuvers to keep as much of me as possible in the dress. We were on a deserted parking lot behind of one of the many _Applebee's _in Los Angeles, the sky so dark I could barely make out the contours of his dark suit, but me giving him an eyeful wasn't what we were here for. I scooted across the black leather as he entered through the same opening, pulling the door closed behind him.

We'd arrived in separate vehicles, now swapping our rented town cars for a fancier one we could arrive in together. A similar change would take place later this evening, only the other way around.

A man with an unshaven beard of approximately three days sat behind the wheel. His striking complexion suggested he was an immigrant from an Asian region, but I knew better. This wasn't our first encounter.

"Hey Ramiro," I said softly.

Our eyes met in the rearview mirror and I gave him a tiny smile. He returned it, giving me a brief nod in acknowledgement, before he turned the key in the ignition, the engine coming alive—we were behind on schedule. Chad and I both fastened our seatbelts, keeping the space in between us purposefully empty.

"So I feel like I should give you a fair warning…," the guy on my right started. Piercing blue eyes met mine as the car slowly started moving. "Everyone in the studio is betting on how this is going to turn out."

I frowned, drawing my eyebrows together, and turned in my seat to face him. This was something he did; blurting out significant information at the strangest, most inopportune moments like he was commenting on the weather.

"I'm sorry," I said slowly. "But what?"

We made a right turn, exiting the parking lot, a couple unfamiliar buildings whirring past.

"Everyone is trying to predict what's going to happen," he replied, gesturing at us with his hand. A boyish grin spread over his face, blatantly advertising how amused he was by the entire thing. "You know, how long it will be until we kill each other—or do the exact opposite."

I gave him an incredulous stare.

"You're joking, right?"

He chuckled, shaking his head.

"Sorry?" he offered, unable to find a response more suitable.

The number of people who knew what Chad and I would be doing the upcoming weeks—an overwhelming amount of joined interviews, pictures, and hopefully appearances on a couple talk shows, if we could land them—was limited. Or, at least, it was supposed to be. There were quite a few people at the studio who knew what we were up to, though, as they had to give us authorization to make something so untrue so public.

With the way information travelled around those hallways, I didn't doubt it had reached the ears of nearly everyone at _So Random _and _Mackenzie Falls _by now. According to a confidentiality clause in our contract, there were certain things we weren't allowed to talk about in public without explicit permission—a rule that had been installed after it turned out one of the assistant directors was leaking stories to the press—but within the building, without any outsiders, discussing me and Chad would be fair game.

"You should put some money in," he said, nudging me with his elbow.

My eyes narrowed. "Why would I do that?"

The car accelerated as a green light turned yellow—and lurched to a halt a fraction of a second later when the yellow turned red before we could pass it. I jerked forward a little and was slammed back against the seat by the safety belt strapping me to the chair. Meanwhile, Chad shrugged.

"We might as well get some money out of this, right?" he said.

"We _are _making money by doing this," I pointed out.

"Alright, fair enough," he nodded. "Look at it as an opportunity to rob the people using our misery for their own benefits of theirs then," he suggested.

"Huh," I said, surprised. "I kind of like that."

Ramiro chuckled quietly in the front, covering it up by a cough and hastily adjusting the rearview mirror. Under the odd lighting of the car, Chad's calculatedly disheveled presence was grinning smugly at me.

"How much did you put in?" I felt obligated to ask.

"Fifty bucks."

He usually went a little bigger. He would barely notice the absence of this money if he lost. Something I'd learned early on, though, was that Chad Dylan Cooper hated losing; if he didn't think he would win, he wouldn't play.

"What on earth did you bet on?"

"Are you sure you want know?" he replied, grin widening.

The car picked up speed again, the light flashing green. Meanwhile, the gleam in his eyes told me that was the exact question he'd wanted me to ask. And if he wanted me to ask, I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"Just tell me," I sighed.

"You'll be in love with me before the first two weeks are over."

I stared at him with a blank expression on my face, my eyebrows rising without me telling them to.

"That's what I betted on," he clarified.

I maintained our eye contact for a moment longer, astonished. Then I couldn't help myself; I laughed, unable to fully wrap my head around it. Having our cast and crew talking and speculating about whether we were going to end up arguing or making out made me slightly uncomfortable. Chad deciding it would be the latter was downright distressing.

"You're aware this is the most civilized conversation we've had this month, right?" I asked him.

The currently lacking option of fleeing the scene probably had some influence. Screaming matches had never been our thing. When we were on set, we had a tendency to either avoid each other or simulate friendly banter, which would then quickly escalate into us parting ways in annoyance.

"You're aware I've never lost a bet, right?" he shot back.

"There's a first time for everything, Cooper," I reminded him. I shook my head in disbelief. "God, I can't believe you made that bet."

"Scared I'll win?"

I rolled my eyes in their sockets as he gave me a sly smile. I wasn't going to fall in love with him. He was cocky, to the point that it was almost laughable, and it was an attitude that worked for him. Even he had to know, though, that getting laid wasn't quite the same as what he'd put his money on. I had every intention of using the time we were forced to spend together to develop our relationship—as friends. But I knew better than to go to Chad if I was looking for something more.

"Oh, I can't wait to rub it in your face once you've lost," I remarked.

I briefly glanced through the tinted car window, trying to assess how much longer I'd be trapped discussing conjectures. Unfortunately, I didn't recognize this part of town yet. Ramiro was staring straight ahead now, focusing on the traffic, though without a doubt still listening to our exchange, having a little trouble stifling a laugh.

"Well, it _is_ plausible that it'll take me longer than two weeks," he admitted, appearing thoughtful. "Yet it's highly improbable."

I cocked one of my sculpted eyebrows. "You're pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?"

Chad's confidence never ceased to amaze me. What surprised me even more, though, was that it was still intact after all these years. Surely I wasn't the first to be amused and appalled rather than infatuated or intimidated by the way he acted.

"Of course I am," he said, not denying anything. "Sonny, you're emotionally attached to _Tawni," _he argued, as if that proved anything. "And let's face it—I'm delightful."

I didn't snort, but I came close. "Incredibly modest, too."

"Occasionally," he grinned.

I grinned back. Our driver honked at another car, swallowing back a curse, the colorful city lights we were racing past begging for our attention. I briefly allowed myself to get distracted by them as I mentally prepared myself for the question I had yet to voice out loud.

"So do any of the Randoms participate in this bet?" I asked hesitantly.

I didn't know if he knew the answer. _I_ sure as hell hadn't heard anything about any bet on set, but I definitely didn't want to be the only one left in the dark. The actor in question gave me the sympathetic glance he'd perfected over the years, confirming my fears.

"I'm guessing they didn't tell you because they assumed you already knew."

"I'm going to kill them," I muttered to myself. We passed another traffic light and made a right turn, the first buildings I recognized appearing. I looked Chad straight in the eye. "And you too, once this is over."

A derisive smirk covered his face. "I can't wait."


End file.
